i’ve just returned from a…

by dishpantheism

i've just returned from a walk. (incidentally i wonder how many of my posts begin with that same line? hmm.) the entire town is humming. it's a low hum. the sound of people taking refuge from the heat in their air-conditioned dwellings. chez mary has none of that. but i have windows which i open at night. that's generally cool enough. though tonight might be pushing it. quite warm. every few houses there's one with the doors and windows all ajar. those houses don't hum. instead blue light flashes on the walls. silhouettes motion from shadow-y armchairs. in the darkened yards sprinklers labor to revive lawns. the surplus mist hovers over the streets. i walked through several cool clouds of it. they were at neck level. smelled like damp straw and night swimming.

there are constantly new things out there in the dark. sometimes i get the naive notion that i have a real handle on darkness. on what a given street looks like in a given season. i don't. i go for a walk and notice for instance that persimmon leaves cannot be mistaken for another leaf even in the dark. they have a strange texture that isn't very pronounced in daylight. but moonlight makes it especially apparent. that was tonight's lesson. it made me think about when i traveled around the u.s. sometimes i would see a place and think if only i could live here for a year to see this place as it appears in each season. a montana ghost town. a red rock canyon in oklahoma. a tiny fishing village in maine. nyc. but i suppose living a year in each of the places that has fascinated me would probably require several lifetimes. or some sort of magical time travel. and i'm happy that a place so very small as the one i live in continually surprises me. but right now i sort of want to crawl out of my skin for restlessness. i'd like to pack my surprise in a little valise and unleash it somewhere else. i'd like to surprise my surprise. 
i was going to write more. but i think i'll go. my mind is in a froth from walking and imagining just a wee bit too much. i really tired poor lola out. 
g'night.
   

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